It was the year of 1975 in a small town In Northern Mexico, and I was 6 year old. My mother used to have this old friend of hers whom her own ancient mother had just recently passed away and whom I had never met.
My mother went to give her condolences. As they talked, I roamed around the old fancy house. My mother and her friend walked out the house. Then, a draft of wind shut the door closed and soon I realized I was locked inside. A quiet terror took over me and I screamed but the lady did not have her keys to open the door, and in the middle of my desperation I could not find the way to open the fancy cast iron lock with latch which was mounted in a metal door. In the end, after much screaming and trying, I gave up and just curled up in a fetal position down in a corner by the door, arms crossed over my knees and my head buried in my arms, and bawled my eyes out.
I heard a very kind, old and frail female voice that told me to stop crying. The voice came from nowhere and everywhere, and at some point I swear it was whispering in both my ears or right inside my head. I lifted my head, and looked straight ahead the long corridor which lead to another door and out to a patio and I saw nobody. Then looked toward the door located to the right of the hallway which led to the living room, and saw nothing. I looked upwards and right there at the end of the hallway up in the air a female-shaped see-through figure descended and advanced all at once from nowhere. She wore an old-fashioned nightgown and nightcap. She had gray-white tresses very dainty and faint barely touching her chest and as she passed under the sunlight of the ceiling's sky-light, she seemed to disappear for a second to subtly but surely be there again as she advanced toward me under the shaded side of the hallway.
As she descended, she got close to the door without ever stepping on the floor or completely materializing. She commanded me to get up and try the lock again but I was too terrified to do so. Then she proceeded herself to pull the latch that would unlock the door. I heard the click, and saw the light enter through the crack. Quickly I got up and in my desperation to leave I passed through her! As I did, I felt a chill and a strange force pulling from inside me. I pushed the door wide open and bolted out. I ran until I was home in my father's arms, then I told him everything he just nodded and held me close. I never saw another thing like that, ever, and I am so grateful for that.
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You have my apologies, also, for the callous indifference with which I treated your situation. Did you keep a back-up copy of the 5,000-word version as you originally constructed it? It would be very informative for us to read it.
(Mods: is it possible for Anoize to resubmit the story, or should she post it here in the comments for us?)
The sad thing is that (despite the reactions to maternal behavior discussed in this thread) I can sympathize with your predicament, partly because I can picture my mother telling me to stop panicking and to pay attention to the door handle in a stern, no-nonsense voice. I've got no doubt that she loves me, I'm just not certain she likes me a hell of a lot.
If Dona Otilia lived to 100, but kept her mind sharp, she'd have needed a forceful personality to begin with. Strength of character seems to be a prerequisite for intelligent hauntings.
Take care,
-Biblio.